


A Demonic Advent and an Angelic Christmas

by starryfull13



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Christmas, Other, Rubber Ducks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mischievous crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27818335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryfull13/pseuds/starryfull13
Summary: Aziraphale mindlessly went through the motions of making another hot chocolate. Filling the kettle and putting it onto the stove to warm the water, rinsing out his mug, locating a spoon, collecting the milk, opening the cupboard to retrieve the container of Hot Chocolate powder.As Aziraphale lifted the container off the shelf something small and yellow caught his eye hiding behind it. Whatever it was it wasn’t there earlier. His eyebrows knitted together as he reached into the back of the cupboard to get a better look at it.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	A Demonic Advent and an Angelic Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Happy first day of Advent! This was inspired by something my friend's girlfriend did for her when visiting in August (I've been sitting on the idea since then!!!) then merged with a family Christmas tradition. Hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> Huge thanks to GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge) for betaing and everyone in the Get it write server for their support and ideas

Rain pelted against the windows of the bookshop while an angel sat comfortably in his chair engrossed in a book. _A Christmas Carol_ to be exact. Despite it being a first edition and being read countless of times the book was in extremely good condition, as were the majority of the books in the shop. The pages were beautifully yellowed with age and felt comforting under Aziraphale’s fingers.

With the weather being a typically miserable winter’s day Aziraphale decided not to bother opening up the shop (it was only scheduled to be open for an hour anyway) and settle down with a good book and hot chocolate. That was over an hour ago. It had been a long time since Aziraphale had read _A Christmas Carol_ so he was completely captivated by it, savouring each familiar word.

Scrooge was watching the Cratchit family attempting to enjoy Christmas while mourning the loss of Tiny Tim when the door to the shop rattled as someone tried to open it, bringing Aziraphale back to the real world.

“We’re closed.” he called disgruntledly.

The population of London had even more of an audacity to want to buy his books at this time of year. Aziraphale huffed and reached for his hot chocolate on the table next to him. The half mug that was left long since turned cold, un-noticed and forgotten by the angel. Aziraphale pouted as he looked into the mug. He reluctantly rose from the comfortable reading chair and out from underneath the tartan blanket covering his legs to head to the back room to make another one.

Aziraphale mindlessly went through the motions of making another hot chocolate. Filling the kettle and putting it onto the stove to warm the water, rinsing out his mug, locating a spoon, collecting the milk, opening the cupboard to retrieve the container of hot chocolate powder.

As Aziraphale lifted the container off the shelf something small and yellow caught his eye hiding behind it. Whatever it was it wasn’t there earlier. His eyebrows knitted together as he reached into the back of the cupboard to get a better look at it. In-between his fingers was a small toy rubber duck wearing a Santa hat. It was no bigger than a pound coin making it rather cute.

“What on Earth?” Aziraphale pondered out loud. His face relaxed into an amused grin as the pieces clicked into place.

He strode over to the telephone and dialled a number he could recite in his sleep, that is to say if he did sleep. It only rang once before there was an answer.

“Hello Angel.”

“Crowley. I suppose this has something to do with you?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Crowley replied, his voice like silk.

Aziraphale hummed. “I’m surprised I didn’t feel you miracling it here.”

“Probably too lost in a book in your chair. That’s why I hid it there. Thought you’d snuggle down at some point with a hot chocolate on a day like today.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks grew warm with how well the demon knew him. “Yes, well…..” He could hear Crowley’s smile on the other end of the line.

“What you reading?”

“ _A Christmas Carol_. It seemed appropriate with it being the first of December.”

“Ah yeah. It’s the only decent Christmas story out there, with all the ghosts.”

“There’s no need to pretend anymore dear. You can like things that aren’t dark and spooky.”

“Who says I’m pretending?” Crowley cried, “All the films are either mushy romance things or comedies about Santa.” The distaste in Crowley’s voice was palpable, but Aziraphale knew a lot of it was put on.

Aziraphale changed the subject knowing getting him to admit to his “soft” and “good” side was a lost cause. “So, why the hidden duck?”

“It’s for Advent.”

Aziraphale paused, “I don’t follow.”

“There’s one for each day of Advent, well modern advent anyway, and you’ve got to find them all.”

Aziraphale stared at the yellow duck sitting on the table next to the phone. “You mean to say there are twenty-five rubber ducks hidden around my bookshop?”

“Nah. By Christmas there’ll ‘ve been anyway. One will be hidden each day for you to find. Can’t have you going to find them all once you hang up, can I?” Crowley teased.

Aziraphale could feel a smile forming in the corner of his mouth. “Oh, how very devious and wily of you.” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

“That’s me.”

“Are we still on for dinner on Saturday?” Aziraphale asked nervously. It was himself who invited Crowley out, rather than the other way around. He had invited Crowley out before, but it was usually for the Arrangement, or with a little persuasion from the demon. A few months was not enough time to break six thousand years’ worth of habits.

“’Course. Pick you up at seven?”

“Sounds lovely. I’ll see you then.”

“Happy hunting Angel.”

* * *

The lead up to the first Christmas of the rest of their lives turned out to be an interesting one for Aziraphale. Each day brought a new challenge for him. After a few days he began to look forward to finding the sweet little yellow duck.

When asked why little yellow ducks wearing Santa hats Crowley turned into his usual eloquent self, eventually saying something about the hats made them Christmassy. Aziraphale didn’t really care. He enjoyed the daily puzzle, the anticipation as to where and when the cute little toy would appear.

His now large collection had materialised into some of the strangest places, and mostly undetected by the angel. Only on a handful of occasions had he felt the tingle in the air indicating a miracle had taken place.

Aziraphale found one sitting on his chair one morning, in a desk drawer, hidden in a lamp, perched inside the horn of his gramophone, on a bookshelf, on the spiral staircase (he nearly trod on that one and squashed the poor thing), inside the kettle, to name a few places. One was even in the box of decorations when Aziraphale went to decorate the shop on the eleventh as he usually did.

The hunt wasn’t restricted to the shop either. Several were hidden in the small flat upstairs. One evening Aziraphale went into the bedroom and discovered one sitting proudly on top of one of the pillows (he chuckled at that one).

Eventually Christmas Eve arrived and Aziraphale had twenty-four little ducks sitting on his desk. Twinkling Christmas lights adorned the street outside, lighting up the bookshop in an array of colours giving it an even softer and warmer feeling. Soho itself was buzzing with wrapped up revellers and last-minute shoppers while an angel and demon sat comfortably in the backroom with wine and a takeaway. Aziraphale loved the festive season, but hated the crowds that came with it so Crowley picked something up instead of them going out for the evening.

After an awkward discussion the two decided to spend Christmas Eve, Christmas, and ultimately New Year, together. They had spent one or the other in each other’s company countless times over the years, bumping into each other as they did, but not with too much fanfare and never made it a regular thing. The Arrangement was risky enough, never mind adding cultural holidays into the mix. But as Crowley said, “Who's there to stop us from spending them together this year?”.

So, Aziraphale found himself inviting Crowley to spend Christmas with him at the bookshop. They were going to do it all properly. They would have stockings, presents under the tree to exchange, parlour games, festive food and drink like mince pies, Christmas pudding and mulled wine, and the full Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Although Crowley wasn’t as interested in food as Aziraphale, he was eager to see how the angel would handle cooking a Christmas dinner.

“So, what’s on the menu for tomorrow?” asked Crowley before taking another mouthful of wine.

“Well, smoked Salmon for the starter. I have a Goose for the main course, not Turkey obviously. Far too modern and Americanised.”

“Obviously.”

“I spent today preparing the root vegetables and stuffing to go with it. Which reminds me, would you prefer roast or mashed potatoes dear?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Roast it is then. Oh, and pigs in blankets of course.” Aziraphale wiggled thinking about the delicious pigs and blankets. The taste of the salty bacon and sausage meat when he popped one into his mouth was incredibly simple, and yet, absolutely scrumptious.

Crowley tried to hide a smile by taking another drink of wine, but Aziraphale caught it.

“And I have two choices of dessert.”

“Don’t you mean a back up dessert if you cock up the first one.”

Aziraphale huffed, “I will not….. muck up the first one. I couldn’t decide what one would be best.” He said primly, pointedly taking a sip of his wine causing Crowley to laugh.

They idly chatted, laughed, and drank the evening away. Before they knew it, the Long case clock was chiming midnight.

“Oh.” said Aziraphale, surprised and droopily checking the time on his pocket watch. “Well, I suppose I should say Merry Christmas my dear.” Aziraphale lifted his glass to toast with Crowley, who gave the angel a Merry Christmas back.

Aziraphale was pleasantly tipsy, feeling warm and fuzzy. He couldn’t remember a Christmas when he was this happy and at ease. He considered Crowley was the same judging by the way he was sprawled on the couch. That was until he sat up with a nervous, determined look to himself.

“What’s this?” asked Crowley ever so casually, as he reached to pull something out from behind his back.

Aziraphale giggled as he felt the tell-tale shift of a demonic miracle. “I have no idea!” he said exaggerating his confusion to match Crowley’s dramatics.

A small gold gift bag stuffed with pale blue tissue paper was placed on the table between the angel and demon. Aziraphale’s eyes flitted between the bag and Crowley sitting hunched over on the couch across from him.

“What’s this then?”

“What d’you think it is?! It’s a Christmas present.”

“Well yes, but, you’ve already got me a present.” Aziraphale gestured to the shiny red wrapped present with a large bow under the sparkling tree. He was intrigued to find out what it was after discovering it was soft and squishy when Crowley handed it to him earlier.

“Nmhs, just open it.”

Aziraphale lifted the light gift bag onto his lap, removing the tissue paper before bursting out laughing. “I thought I was to find them all?” he asked as he removed a larger yellow duck with a Santa hat from the bottom of the bag.

“Had to make one easy for you didn’t I?” Crowley’s voice sounded casual, but he was still every bit as wound up.

An envelope inside the bag caught Aziraphale’s eye, making Crowley tense more as he opened it to see what was inside. Carefully Aziraphale pulled out two shiny tickets. On closer inspection they were plane tickets for a return trip to Rome in the Spring.

Aziraphale stared at the tickets in awe. His mouth went dry while he was convinced his heart would explode based on the way it raced in his chest. Hundreds of thoughts rushed round his head about what this gesture implied. What, if any conclusions could be drawn. Although people didn’t usually buy friends expensive plane tickets for each other….. Did they?

Could this be the start of them moving forward? They’d never outright discussed what they were to each other exactly. But there was something more between them. Well, there was on Aziraphale’s side anyway. And Crowley wasn’t exactly subtle. But he never pushed, only hinted really. Questioned with actions. Was this another hint? Another step closer? Another opportunity if Aziraphale could be brave enough?

Aziraphale managed to slow himself down after a few moments and gain enough control to whisper a broken “Crowley”.

“Ngk. I, um. I thought we could go together. You know. Could probably use a holiday or something after everything.”

Aziraphale managed to lift his attention from the tickets to a jittery Crowley holding a matching pair of tickets. His gaze flitting about everywhere apart from on Aziraphale.

“Thought it might be nice to check out Rome again. Could rent a car and drive to Florence n’ Tuscany n’ the Almafi coast. I know you’d like all the food and wine there. Oh, and Venice! I know you’ve always wanted to go there but never got the chance. Can plan it together.”

Crowley paused in his rambling, braving a look at Aziraphale who was gripping onto the tickets for dear life. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what his face was doing at that moment (he never was good at hiding his thoughts and emotions), but apparently it was doing the wrong thing. The demon tossed his tickets onto the table and began pacing about the room.

“Or not. Never mind. It’s stupid. It was just a stupid idea. Forget about it. Want more wine? I’ll go get another bottle.”

Aziraphale shot up from his seat chasing after Crowley. “Wait. Crowley!” He grasped Crowley’s sleeve, stopping him from escaping.

Crowley whirled round, his uncovered eyes laying out his panic for the world to see. His gaze darted over to his glasses but Aziraphale firmly blocked Crowley from getting them. Aziraphale slid his hand down toward Crowley’s. He could see the demon's throat bob as he gulped.

“Crowley. It’s a wonderful idea!” breathed Aziraphale, “It’s awfully expensive though. Are you sure you want to spend all that money on me?”

Crowley sagged, letting out a low sigh. “Of course, Angel. Worth every penny.” He turned his hand so his palm was facing Aziraphale’s, curling his cool fingers around Aziraphale’s warm hand.

Tears filled the corners Aziraphale’s eyes while a smile overtook his face. His chest felt ready to burst as it swelled with pure joy. If he were able to see himself, he may have noticed a faint glow was surrounding him.

This, without a doubt, was the best Christmas.


End file.
